


Thor's Beard

by lokilickedme



Series: Forgotten Gods [2]
Category: Thor (AU) - Fandom
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Vibrators, just sex and not much else, unapologetic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 12:17:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilickedme/pseuds/lokilickedme
Summary: Because I promised Pete would get some action.  So here's Pete, getting some action.  Hammer Of The Gods fans - enjoy! :)





	Thor's Beard

 

 

 

 

"You got Jake's tool belt?  The heavy leather one, he said he left it here."

"He leaves everything here.  Tell him I want this stuff gone, he's encroaching on my personal space."

"Yeah well, little brothers are good at that."

Pete moved past me, walking into my house like he always did - like he lived there.  That was how he treated the whole world, like he owned it and the contents of the every refrigerator on the planet were his.  I knew he was heading for mine.

I always kept it stocked for him.

"How long have I known you, Pete?"

He shrugged his gigantic shoulders.  All those years of construction work sat well on him.  "Close to a decade, sugarbutt."

"And you still call me that."

He leaned over, making a big production of checking out my backside, one eyebrow cocked in mock contemplation that made him look more deranged than serious and caring not one iota about the rules of sexual harassment.  "I see no reason not to."  A wink and that heart melting grin, and then he was off on his quest again for whatever was in my fridge.

Pete.  Big old Pete, the soft hearted giant that saved my little brother.  How long had I had this secret thing for him?  Although I suspected it wasn't much of a secret, since he was at my house no less than twice a week and even though it would be easy to brand him a brainless chunk of brawn, the truth was that he was a smart guy where people were concerned.  He knew things on first glance that most people needed some observation time to sort out.  He knew Jake was a good kid the moment he laid eyes on him even though the little shit had just driven a stolen car right through his work site, drunk off his ass and probably more than a little bit high.  Pete didn't call the cops - no, he gave him a job and got him off the streets, probably kept him out of jail and definitely saved his future.  We owed that to Pete.  Our whole family owed him, because Jake was our baby brother, the youngest and brightest of all of us - but also the most troubled and the most likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.  And now instead of selling drugs and becoming a junkie, he was taking his Ritalin, going to college and earning a degree.

Yeah, big deceptively wise goofball probably knew exactly what I thought of him, if he'd seen under Jake's demons that easily.

I didn't know an awful lot about Pete where facts were concerned though, other than the basics.  He didn't talk about himself much, even though it seemed like he was _always_ talking.  He owned Golden City Construction, specialized in renovations, had a filthy mouth to rival my little brother's and ate like a bull on steroids.  He was rough and ridiculously strong and had the face of a dirtyminded cherub, and I only believed he was human because what else would he be?  But I remember him telling me and my sister once a long time ago that he was an old god, that he'd settled here because he was tired of constantly having to fix things for everybody in the universe any time they needed help.  But fixing things was sort of his calling, so the construction trade suited him as a way to kill time and keep himself in shape while he waited out eternity.  Plus he got to build things, so bonus.

He'd said Jake was his adopted little brother.  Not just in a taking-the-kid-under-his-wing sort of way...the way he told it, Jake was a god like him, one of the old ones, and that he'd forgotten who he was.  That he was every bit as much of a troublemaker in his old life as he was in this one, and that they were destined to always find each other and keep each other out of trouble no matter what life they ended up in.

It was a cool story.  Made me feel better about Jake being the way he was, like maybe he just couldn't help it.  Troubled gods sounded infinitely less doomed than troubled teenage boys, and I liked the idea of Pete being there to look after him.

 

"Hey lunkhead, I need you!"

I heard the chair at the kitchen bar screech across the tiles and a few seconds later a big blonde head was next to mine, arms quickly going around me to grab the book shelf that was teetering threateningly away from the wall.  It was overloaded and poorly made, a WalMart quick-build that I'd assembled myself one weekend, and it was obviously on its last legs.  He pushed it back against the wall with so little effort he probably could have done it without even coming into the room.

God he smelled good.  Like dried sweat and sawdust and extra strength guy's antiperspirant, which doesn't sound that great when you think about it but can do something really unwelcome to your hormones if you're not careful.  He'd probably come over straight from his current work site and hadn't showered yet, but god help the big beautiful lout, he could smell to high heaven and it hit your nose like an aphrodisiac.  Not fair.  I wanted to bite the big arm that was next to my head but he moved it, giving my hair a decidedly ungentle tug as he moved back from me.

"I got some planks left over at the place we're working on, I'll bring it over and make you a better one," he told me as he kicked the lower leg of the bookcase back into position.  "Stick a book under that foot to tip it back so it doesn't fall on you in the middle of the night.  Goddamn particle board monkeyfuckers."

I tried not to look at him, flopping back onto my bed like it was his while I pushed all my books back into place.  I bumped into his knee when I walked past and, as always, was amazed at how thick and solid every bit of him was.  His leg didn't move and he grinned when I looked down at him.

"Get off my bed, if Jake saw you there he'd shiv you. "

"Jake's home sleeping, he's working all night this weekend."  He thrust his hips up in a comical exaggeration of what Jake does on Friday and Saturday nights.  I didn't want to think about it; my beautiful baby brother stripping in front of a smoky room full of screaming women was just a bit beyond the limit for me.  But damn if the kid wasn't putting himself through med school on those dollar bills.  I'd seen his bank account.

Thank god he wasn't spending it on drugs.  Another thing we owed to Pete's big heart.

A big hand reached out but didn't grab me.  I looked down at it - broad, thick, strong, heavily calloused and mottled with scars - and I tapped my fingertips against his without thinking.  He fistbumped me and laid back against my pillows.  "You're supposed to be finding his tool belt."

"Oh...yeah."  I pointed to the top shelf that had nearly fallen on me.  "That's what I was doing, it's up there."

"What the hell's it doing up there?"

"I don't know, it's just there.  It was in my way so I - "  I made a tossing gesture to indicate how I'd thrown it, and realized immediately that the heavy belt full of nails and drill bits and various iron and metal accoutrements was probably what had set the bookcase off balance in the first place.  Pete shot me a baleful frown and stood up to drag everything off the top shelf, starting with the wicker basket I used as a catch-all.

I grabbed it from his hands, because some of the things the catch-all caught weren't meant for his eyes.

Looking back now, I see that's the exact moment where I goofed up.

 

 

He got a good look at what was bumping around in that junk bin before I could snatch it away, and the grin that erupted across his face sent about fifteen brands of _Oh no_ shuddering down my spine.

“You’ve got a vibrator?  Let me see it - “

He reached for the basket, taking it from my hand before I could move it out of his reach and pulling out my forlorn, underused, all but forgotten personal massager.  “Nice.  No batteries?"  He flipped the switch multiple times while I covered my face with my hands.  "Why would you have a giggle stick with no batteries in it?” 

I shrugged, red faced and mortified but honestly this was no worse than the time he'd used a tampon from under my bathroom sink to plug a nosebleed.  There seemed to be no limits where Pete was concerned.  I didn’t want to be having this conversation...but that grin was so wide it was obvious there wasn’t going to be any way around it without just going straight through.

“I just don’t use it that much, I guess.”

“Too much of the real thing huh?”  There was no end to the wicked mischief glinting in his bright blue eyes and I knew where this was going to end, with me humiliated and flustered as he poked and prodded at my already heavily damaged sense of decency.  It had been bruised and scarred ever since Jake was born and quickly began displaying his famous brand of _fuck the world and everybody in it_ , but I still held onto it in the hopes that one day people would start behaving.  That wasn't happening though, and when I dared to look at Pete again he was still grinning.  I sighed and shook my head.

“Nope.  Too busy for either method.”

"Huh."  There was a few seconds of silence while I waited to see which way this potential cringefest was going to go, and then without much preamble it went there.  “Okay this isn’t right, give me some batteries.”  He started opening my dresser drawers, rifling through my things.  “You have to have batteries around here somewhere.  I’m firing this thing up tonight if I have to go to the hardware store and get a fucking twelve pack of double A’s myself.”

“Triple A’s” I corrected him, moving around him to leave the room.  The batteries were in the kitchen gadget drawer, getting dusty from not spending time in any gadgets.  I brought a pair of them back and handed them over to him, fully and completely against my better judgment...I knew he would never give up until he'd satisfied his need to have a good laugh and one thing I'd learned over the years was that cooperating was almost _always_ the easier option.  It took him all of seven seconds to have the batteries installed and the switch flipped.

The buzzing hum made him throw his head back in overjoyed amusement and that grin, that wicked nasty grin, spread wider than I’d have ever thought possible.

“Oh I’m __using__  this.  Get on the bed girl, legs wide.”

 

I don’t know why I didn’t give him any flack about bossing me around in my own bedroom.  I don’t know why I didn’t respond with indignation at being propositioned while he was laughing like a perverted lunatic and holding my one and only sex toy.  I don’t know why I felt so little inhibition at doing exactly what he told me to do - I wasn’t even particularly turned on and neither was he.  And I don't know why his rumbly chuckle mixing with the low hum of the vibrator affected me the way it did, but there you have it.

Stupidity + resignation + large sexy male with mischievous glint in his lusty blue eyes = epically bad decisions made with zero fucks given.  As was so often the case where Pete was concerned, I simply gave up.

He was cackling as I crawled across the bed to settle on the side farthest from him.  Playful and naughty and having a good time, not a serious inclination in his big body or a somber thought in that blonde head.  And now there was none in mine either as I obeyed his command while he watched with a completely reprehensible gleam in his eyes, and I started laughing myself.  It was a slightly drunk sort of laughter even though I hadn't had a single drop of alcohol, and I didn’t even stop when he grabbed my yoga pants and tugged them down to my knees.

“Ooh, frilly unmentionables.”

I think my soul must have left my body two seconds later when he lowered his head down between my thighs and kissed me, right on the little ribbon bow on the front of my panties.  I know I gasped.  I think my body jerked, as well.  It was fast and it was sudden, and then before I’d really had enough time to register the fact that his face was _right there _,__ he sat upright again and laid the buzzing vibrator directly against my clit.

In less time than it took to suck in my breath, I went from not turned on to so intensely aroused I couldn’t control myself.  Which was how I ended up screaming when Pete reached up, slid his hand under my shirt and bra to thumb my nipple, and ordered me to say his name.

Oh I said it alright.  I said it on each and every crashing pulsating wave that slammed over me while he pushed that vibrator against me till I was shaking so hard it felt like I was going to rattle apart.  And through it all he squeezed and pinched my nipple, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of what ended up being the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.

I couldn’t breathe when it was over, and he was still enjoying the hell out of it all.

“I’m getting in on this,” he said excitedly as he stood and pulled his shirt off over his head.  He dropped it on the floor and snapped open the buttons on his jeans, pushing them down just far enough to pull his cock out and give it a stroke as he climbed up on the bed on his knees and straddled me.  I stared at him, my vision a little foggy and my breathing so ragged I felt almost lightheaded.  He was so damn beautiful.  Big and strong looking and built all heavy and thick, no bones showing through his skin anywhere, just solid mass covered in golden sun burnished skin.  His pecs were furred over lightly with soft blonde hair that trailed down the middle of his stomach, spreading at his groin where it met the base of his cock.  I'd seen nearly this much of him so often - he used my shower from time to time and his complete and utter lack of propriety often had him walking around my house in just a towel, mostly naked and without any sense of shyness or decency - but now the sight of him, bare chested and exposed with his jeans pushed down, was making me feel strange.

Strange as in intensely heated and aroused even though I’d already come.

It only took him a second to get the condom from his pocket onto his fully erect cock and I was still gasping and trembling when he pushed into me, so wet and ready that he barely had to do any work at all to nudge his way in.

There were a few moments of spine shaking bliss when I felt him go in, that _almost_ painful - but not quite - sensation of stretching and filling and skin tugging skin as he slid into place deep inside me.  I held onto his thick shoulders while he thrust himself against me, his breath hot against the side of my neck and his words coming less and less intelligibly as he got closer to his own release.  It didn’t take long and when it hit him he cursed, panting against my cheek, his rough beard scraping against my skin in the most delicious way I could have imagined up to that point in time.

“You’re trouble.  Oh my god you are so much trouble Pete…”

He laughed against my throat and I felt him slip out of me, his heavy cock laying between my legs against me, still twitching as he collapsed onto me with his weight barely supported by his big arms.

“I think you like trouble, girl.”

 

 

We'd been laying there wondering what the fuck we just did for maybe five minutes when his big deep voice broke into my thoughts.

“You ever felt a beard on your bare pussy?”

“Oh god.”  I put my hands over my face to hide my embarrassment from him, knowing he would find it terribly amusing and endlessly provoking if he realized I wasn’t used to that kind of talk in bed.  Around my brother, yes, but I'd never had a lover that talked nasty to me.  And no, I’d never felt a beard on my bare pussy, though now that he’d mentioned it it was all I could do not to beg him to show me how it felt.  I rolled away from him with my face still hidden but he grabbed my shoulder and turned me back to him.  His eyes, those sexy deepset silvery blue eyes, dragged slowly down my body.

My panties were around my left knee and off my right leg entirely.  My yoga pants were gone, tossed off the bed somewhere, and my shirt was pushed up.  My bra was still in place but he was eyeing it now with a wicked hitch to his eyebrow and I knew it wasn’t long for this world when he slipped one long finger up under the lace of the left cup.

“I’m gonna lick that pussy while it’s still wet,” he said with a wide grin.  That eyebrow cocked up into a devilish arch and wiggled at me as he crouched down between my legs and grabbed my hips, giving me a good hard yank to bring me down to him.

I only squealed for a few seconds; after that the tickling stopped and was replaced by something else entirely.  Warm lips and even warmer tongue probed and invaded places that were still sensitive and twitchy from the climax they’d just barely survived, but nothing - _nothing_  - compared to that scratchy bearded chin rubbing hard against the softest skin I possessed.

He broke me, good and proper.  Heart, soul, spirit, body - all shattered, left shuddering in disconnected pieces that only resembled a body for the simple fact that everything was still on the bed where it started out.

And I didn’t regret the breakage for a single goddamned second.

 

 

 


End file.
